Final Fantasy 6: Legacy of Magic
by Freedan the Eternal
Summary: Fan Novelization  1000 years after the destruction caused by the War of the Magi, the Granbelos Empire seeks to revive the dread force and dominate the world, and a small band of heroes are all that can stand against them, lest the world burn in fire...
1. Chapter 1: The Sacking of Narshe

A brief word of warning to purists: This is not intended to be a word for word retelling of FF6, nor is it going to be 100% accurate to the official tale, as I intend to expand events, character development, and the relationships quite a bit. I will also be using the English translation's names and terminology, simply because I like them more. This was a game that I adored as a child, and still enjoy to this day, and I hope I can do it the justice it deserves.

**Final Fantasy 6: Legacy of Magic**

Retold by: Freedan

_1000 years ago, the War of the Magi reduced the world to a scorched wasteland._

_Magic was a common element of everyday life, even the youngest of children learning_

_the basics of the art, able to light fires with a snap of their fingers, or cause flesh to_

_knit miraculously, healing wounds or sicknesses._

_But even more familiar than magic to man was war. Mankind had fought in war since_

_their most primitive ancestors stood upright and began hurling rocks at one another._

_It was no surprise, therefore, when the Magisters, the most powerful magicians in the_

_world began fighting for power, first in secret, with knives in the dark, and later, more_

_openly, turning entire cities into smoking craters in the crossfire of their magical duels._

_Kings and countries chose their sides, and the armies marched, the end result reshaping_

_the face of the world. Where mountains once stood, canyons appeared, lush forests gave_

_way to barren deserts, and the Espers, the kind spirits who had bestowed the gift of magic_

_upon mankind watched in horror and sad disappointment._

_The mightiest of the Espers stepped forward, revealing just how far mankind had yet to come_

_in their magical skill. The mighty blades of Odin and Ragnarok felled a hundred warriors with_

_each swing, the devastating lighting of Tritoch reduced fortresses to rubble with ease, and the_

_Magisters found themselves defenseless against the might of these otherworldly warriors._

_This was not the end, however, and when the Magisters discovered how to easily slay any Esper,_

_and take the spirit's power for themselves, the tide of the war rapidly shifted once again. But the_

_few remaining Magisters were far too paranoid to work together for long, and in a great cataclysmic_

_finale, the final Magisters wiped themselves from the face of the Earth. No survivors emerged from_

_the great smoking crater left behind. The Espers and Magisters alike vanished from the world, and_

_magic along with them._

_Gradually, the world recovered. Life began anew, and the scorched wasteland left by the war_

_once again grew lush and green. Mankind learned to survive without magic, relying on their_

_own abilities and ingenuity. Where cities dedicated to magical education and research once_

_stood, high technology has taken hold. With the rediscovery of iron and coal, the power_

_ of the steam engine now reigns supreme._

_But there are those who have never given up the search for_

_the dread destructive force known as "magic."_

_Can it be that those in power are on the verge of repeating a deadly mistake?_

**Chapter 1: The Sacking of Narshe**

The wind howled viciously over the cliffs, carrying with it an icy bite that seemed to stab straight to the heart. Snow whipped through the air with stinging velocity that could leave welts on a man's face. Audible even over the weather were the violent footsteps smashing down on the snow, crushing ice and rocks alike under large metal feet of three enormous figures, grinding metal with each step, swinging large arms and hooked hands against the wind, and venting steam every few moments, smoking the air against the cold. Seated atop each of the eight foot monstrosities, partially protected against the wind by the cockpit, were pilots, manipulating levers and foot pedals to keep moving.

They slowed as they neared the cliff edge, coming to a stop once they could see what lay below. Neatly fitted into a mountain pass, lights and smoke alike were visible from the town that lay about ten miles away and five miles down from their position.

Biggs paused a moment, tapping the glass visor of his helmet with one knuckle, then pushing the accumulated ice from it with his thumb, so he could see more clearly. "There it is," he said loudly, over the wind, "Certainly managed to put it out of the way, didn't they?"

His companion, Wedge, had lifted his helmet just enough to dig the snow out of one ear with his finger, and sighed as he pulled it back down. Their uniforms were identical, and with the visor covering the upper halves of their faces, a casual observer wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

"Looks like a mining town, sure enough," Wedge replied, "Built it right on top of the coal mine. When that dries up, so will the town. I just wonder at their luck, managing to dig up a frozen Esper. Well, not so lucky after all, since we're here."

"Think it's still alive?" Biggs asked.

"Don't know," Wedge said, "The bosses sure as hell want to get their hands on it, though."

"From here, it looks like the only way in is right up the main road," Biggs said, "They'll spot us before we get in, so best to be ready for an ambush."

"Then we'll show them why an imperial soldier is worth a hundred of them," Wedge said, cracking his knuckles.

They turned their machines around, away from the cliff, and toward their other companion. "You know, the two of us could handle this," Biggs said, "Why'd the higher ups send this woman… this sorceress, with us?" He turned to look directly at Wedge, "I'm not comfortable with her looking over my shoulder, not after hearing that she fried fifty magitek armored soldiers in less than three minutes."

The woman in question did not respond. She was not wearing a uniform like their own, instead a heavy fur coat against the cold, though her head was bear, her green hair whipping in the violent wind, occasionally blowing up to reveal the circlet around her forehead.

"I think they just want a test in the field of her abilities," Wedge said, "We must have come up with the short straw. Don't worry about it. The slave crown on her head robs her of all conscious thought. She'll follow orders."

The woman watched the two of them without reaction, completely oblivious to the biting cold battering her, as if to reinforce the statement. Wedge suddenly yanked the levers in his hands, turning his machine again, and started moving, shouting back at them, "We'll approach the town from the east! Let's get down there."

With jets of steam and heavy footsteps, they fell into step behind him, descending the path down from the cliff to the snow filled valley below. It was slow going, but once down in the valley, they had enough space to bring the machines they rode into a steady jogging pace, nearing the limit of the machines' speed, yet were able to cover ground through the thick snow at nearly the pace of a man sprinting on open ground.

The town gradually came back into view through the whipping snow, the pass of the mountain rising above them in the distance, lit windows and smoking chimneys built along the uphill slope rising high into the air. Even over the wind, as they came closer, the sound of alarm bells could be heard in the distance.

They had been spotted.

A stone archway barred entry into the pass, and heavy wooden doors sealed against passage. As they came closer, without a word, Wedge flicked a switch on his control panel with his thumb, then squeezed the trigger on his right hand level. What looked like a vent port on the front of his machine began to glow, red light building rapidly, then suddenly a great beam shot forth, striking into the door.

The door was ripped from its hinges, flaming fragments of wood raining down on the paved street behind it. There were screams from within, and several town guards could be seen diving into piles of snow to put out the flames on their clothing.

As the trio approached the now open entrance, a line of guards formed on just the other side. All dressed in heavy furs against the cold, they stood ready to fight with hand axes and small wooden shields. Wedge squeezed the trigger again, another vicious beam of fire ripping straight through the arch, and men screaming as those caught directly in the beam fell to the ground as blackened skeletons. One screamed in agony, only one arm caught in the beam, and watched in horror as the flesh melted before his eyes until the pain mercifully caused him to black out, collapsing into the snow.

"I go right, you go left!" Wedge shouted as he pushed through the arch, Biggs directly behind him, and they split off in either direction.

The guards regrouped and charged the pair, trying to get close enough to strike the pilots. The clawed hands of the great machines became clear in their purpose as they were used to impale attackers, while simply swatting others away with enough force to crush ribs. The group of guards did not press their attack for long, pulling back into the alleyways, dragging their wounded with them.

As Biggs and Wedge turned into the street, they spotted the woman, who had moved past them, catch up to a fleeing group, catching one through the back with a clawed hand, smashing a second with the other arm, sending him flying and colliding with a brick building wall, blood spattering where his head smashed against it, and as the third lifted his hand axe to strike high at her, lifted the first arm, flinging the skewered guard off in one motion, and smashing the bottom side of the arm against the third's head, the guard crumpling on the stop.

"She's not bad," Biggs remarked as she turned back toward them, and he visibly flinched at the emotionless, blank expression on her face after such an act.

"You're right," Wedge said, "And now I don't want her behind me either."

Biggs scanned the alleys, and seeing now sign of movement, edged forward toward her, then had an idea. "Let's put her on point," he said, "That way, any surprise attacks up ahead go at her first."

"Good idea," Wedge said, then pointed up the street, toward the uphill end of town, "You! Forward!"

She turned, marching the heavy machine up the street, and the two fell into step behind her. The guards seemed to have pulled back for the moment, though Biggs and Wedge both watched each alley they passed suspiciously. The woman ahead of them moved without a word and without a glance in any direction.

Wedge glanced up to the rooftops, seeing nothing moving above them, and spotted a window on a second story above them, and a young boy looking down at them. He smiled and waved at the child, and suddenly the boy was snatched away from the window and the shutters were slammed shut by a woman, his mother most likely.

A snarling drew his attention back to the front, as he and Biggs simultaneously the group moving out of a side street ahead of them, holding tightly to heavy chains attached to the collars of enormous dogs, each nearly the size of man. "Attack dogs," Wedge said, "Get ready."

As one, the chains were released from the collars, and a wall of fangs and fur rushed toward them. "God damn, those things are big," Biggs said.

The massive canines tore down the street, throwing snow in their wake, their fangs bared and slavering, their breath like puffs of smoke in the air.

"Fire!" Wedge shouted.

As one, the three mechs lit up on the front, followed by beams of screaming flame shooting up the street, and the snarls of the dogs turned into howls and pained yips, those that were not immediately killed rolling on the snow as flames danced over their fur, melting their flesh in the heat.

"Aim up sixteen degrees," Wedge said, and immediately the three mechs shifted, tilting their front end upward, toward the ascent into the far pass, "Fire!"

The guards scattered, but not quickly enough, and more than one was caught as the trio of superheated beams raked across their position, and more cries of agony rewarding the imperials, and at least two more instantly transformed into blackened bones, crashing down on the street, only to then be crushed beneath the remorseless metal feet as they passed.

The trio passed out the far end of the town, deeper into the pass. A few more moments of uphill pushing through snow passed without incident, until Wedge ordered a halt as he listened. There was shouting up ahead.

"They're going for the mines! We can't let the empire get their hands on the Esper! Hold this line here as long as you can, until we can collapse the tunnel!"

"The clock just started ticking," Wedge said, "Get moving, we don't have time to waste."

The ambush site came into view up ahead, where the pass narrowed to the point their mechanized armor would barely fit through single file, and as they drew closer, the trap was sprung. There was a click as a chains were loosed from collars once again, and coming around the corner were two hulking beasts. Like great wooly bears with enormous tusks, the massive beasts charged directly toward them, their steps causing rumbling vibrations beneath the three.

"Can I shoot them?" Biggs asked, fingering his trigger.

"Negative!" Wedge said, "Too narrow here, too much snow. We might block the pass with an avalanche or a rock slide."

"You do realize those things are bigger than we are, even with the armor, right?" Biggs said.

"Stand your ground," Wedge said.

The great beasts were upon them. Biggs tried to dodge to the side, but he was less maneuverable than the beast, which turned easily and crashed into him, the metal feet of his armor sliding back in the snow and nearly toppling him over. Wedge appeared beside him, ramming the clawed hands of his armor into the beast's neck and bracing his mech's feet to push. With some quick maneuvering of his levers and pedals, Biggs duplicated his stance, stabbing his claws into the beast from the other side.

"Give it a shove, then pull back!" Wedge shouted.

They both shoved the beast back, then yanked their arms back, stepping their mechs back at the same time. With a crunch and a snap, the beast's head was ripped from its neck, spraying blood over the front of their armors.

They turned, searching for the other. They spied it, circling around the woman, who was merely turning her armor in place, watching it. Before they could react, it lunged for her. Steam shot from the mech's arms, the clawed fingers piercing the thick skin of its neck, then a loud snap as one arm shot up and the other down, and the beast collapsed with a broken neck.

And still, no reaction from her face or eyes, the exact same emotionless expression she had worn the entire way.

"That's it," Biggs said, "Never again with this slave crown nonsense, she is just too damn creepy. They can lock me up for insubordination, I don't care."

"Pay attention," Wedge said, "We're not in the clear yet."

As if to prove him right, six guards appeared on the ledge above the choke point, and with a shout from one, began to hurl throwing axes at them. Biggs and Wedge both raised the metal arms of the mechs to shield themselves. From above, they were painfully exposed in their cockpits.

Without a word, the woman tilted the front of her mech upward, and pull the trigger. Wedge swore as the red beam raked across the ledge, wiping the guards from existence and smashing into the canyon wall behind them, turning the surface of the rock molten as it passed, and sending chunks raining down.

"No! No, you stupid bitch!" Wedge shouted.

The beam died away, and with a few more clatters of falling rock, the canyon fell silent except for the howling wind. Wedge moved toward the woman. "You do not discharge your weapons without my order!" he shouted, "Do you understand?"

He may as well have been shouting at a wall, for it would have given him just as much of a reaction. All he gained was a blank stare that sent a shiver down his spine. "Turn around, and get moving," he growled at her.

Single file, they moved through the pass, and the passage quickly opened up again into the mining canyon. Much wider open, the walls of the canyon were dotted with man-made passages.

"Hold here for a moment," Wedge said as they drew into the canyon, and reached down beside his seat in the cockpit, and withdrew a folded paper. As he unfolded it, Biggs moved closer to his side to see it.

It was a map of the mining area, and Biggs noticed it had X's over many of the shaft locations. "This map is from our source," Wedge said, looking up from the map to the shaft locations, then back at it again, "According to him, the frozen Esper was found in a new mine shaft, now let me see…"

He poured over the map for another few moments, matching the marks with the various mine entrances. "Looks like three new ones since this was made," he said, folding the map and tucking it under his seat, "Let's just hope we pick the right one."

Selecting one of the three at random, he ordered the woman toward it. Entering the shaft was an immediate relief, stepping out of the biting wind and snow. The heavy metal footsteps of the mechs echoed loudly off the walls as they advanced further in.

"Well, if they didn't know we were coming, they do now," Biggs commented.

"Just keep your eyes open," Wedge said, "They're going to collapse the tunnel, and we're running out of time."

As they moved further from the entrance, the light grew dim. Wedge barked at the woman to switch on the lights. With a click and a hum, the tunnel before them lit from the lights in the chest of her armor projecting ahead. Two more clicks and the other two lit up as well.

The tunnel went on and on. "This is a new shaft?" Biggs commented, "If it is, these guys chew through stone like I do Sally's corn beef."

"Hell, they can probably _stroll_ through mud," Wedge said, "Let's go a little further. If it's much deeper than another fifty yards, it can't be the one we're after."

The tunnel weaved to the right, and as they turned the corner, found themselves facing a large wooden gate blocking the tunnel. "Tear it down," Wedge commanded.

The woman lifted one arm of her mech and slashed forward, the wood splintering easily and crumbling to the floor.

"Damn, they're here!" came a shout from further up the tunnel, "We're out of time! Release it now!"

"Are they pulling supports?" Biggs said, "We've got to move!"

"No, wait!" Wedge ordered.

There was a metallic clank, and then a strange sound further up the tunnel. Something like a slimy sliding sound. Then came the other sound.

_Gruuuuuu…_

"What the hell is that?" Biggs asked.

It came into range of the lights, like a gargantuan snail, with a massive spiked shell. With a crack, a spark leaped between the spikes of the shell.

"Hang on, this was in our briefing!" Wedge said, "Something about a monster that eats lightning…"

"And stores the energy in its shell!" Biggs said with sudden realization, "If we hit it too hard, it might even explode!"

"So we tear its damn head off!" Wedge said, "Don't damage the shell!"

The creature was slow moving, but as they moved slowly back, making a bit of space, it lifted its slimy head, and with a forward jerk, there was a loud crash, followed by the floor shaking beneath them and rocks raining from the wall behind them.

"It's going to collapse the tunnel!" Biggs said.

The woman, rather than back off, had moved forward, and moved it, trying to spear the head with the clawed hands of her mech. The beast swatted its head to the side, slamming into the chest of her armor and sending it stumbling to the side, nearly tipping onto its back as she fought to regain balance.

At Wedge's signal, he and Biggs moved in at the same time, trying to get on either side of it. The creature cocked its head back again. They moved to either side, as it shot forward, this time with a ghastly hacking sound, and a blob flew from its face through the air.

Biggs swore as the glob collided with him, unable to move out of the way in time, and splashed over him in the cockpit. Hissing and sizzling rose from where it landed on his controls, seeping into the panel as he tried to wipe the mess from his visor with one hand.

Wedge moved forward quickly, aiming for the creature's head. With a slimy slithering noise, it vanished, sucking back into the shell. Unable to stop his mech in time, the clawed fingers collided with the front of the shell. The next thing he realized, his mech was shaking violently, and his body was convulsing violently, agony shooting through him as contact with the shell electrocuted him through the machine.

His vision exploded, filled with stars, and he felt and impact, only then realizing the pain was fading. It took another few seconds to realize he was on his back, his mech toppled backwards. His vision had yet to clear, but he found the levels and foot pedals, and made the armor lift itself upright and take several steps back, thanking the heavens it still worked and shaking his head violently to clear the stars from his vision.

It was still blurry as he watched, but the creature's head slithered back from the shell, and was immediately impaled from the side by clawed hands, then with steam shooting from the vents, was ripped away. A horrific tearing noise, combined with pure slime gushing and slopping accompanied the sight, and the head was drop with a wet plopping noise to the tunnel floor.

It was the woman, Wedge saw as his vision cleared, now standing by the shell, the creature's entrails spilling next to her, her eyes just as empty as ever, awaiting the next order.

"Biggs, you all right?" Wedge asked, turning to the other.

"I can barely see," Biggs said, wiping at his visor again, "But yeah. My lights died, so I bet this goo fried the panel. Looks like the motors still work, though."

"Okay. Woman, forward!" Wedge said, and as she turned and moved past the shell, commented to Biggs, "Looks like we've got the right tunnel after all."

"Yeah…" Biggs said.

Another twenty yards in, they entered a wider open chamber. No guards awaited them, but as the woman's lights reached the far side of the chamber, their prize was waiting for them.

A block of clear ice sat against the far wall, the rock behind it still wrapping partway round, explaining why it had yet to be moved. As they moved closer, they were able to make out the form, somewhat like a bird, with an eagle's head and great feathered wings, but the body was scaled like a reptile, ending in viciously clawed gargoyle feet and a long heavy tail. Alive or dead, it was securely trapped in the ice.

"Look at that," Biggs said, "Kind of beautiful, in a strange way."

"We'll have plenty of time to admire it," Wedge said, "Let's figure out how we're going to get it out…"

He trailed off as the woman stopped her mech suddenly, and without a word or sound, leaped from the cockpit to the stone floor, and started walking toward the Esper. "Hey!" Wedge shouted, surprised by this sudden and odd behaviour, "What are you doing? Do you know something we don't?"

The woman did not respond, moving closer to the Esper. The chamber around them began to light up, as if a torch had been lit and was growing brighter.

"Where's that light coming from?" Wedge demanded, and suddenly screamed.

A flash of light and Wedge's mech toppled onto its back, the front plating blackened and he rolled out of the cockpit to land face down on the cavern floor, smoke rising around his sides.

"Wedge!" Biggs said, leaping from his own cockpit, racing toward his fallen companion, "What happened to you?"

He started to lift his friend, only to pull back in shock at the sight. His hands shaking, he looked up toward the woman and the Esper. He had no idea what was happening, and did not understand why it was, as another flash of light lit the chamber, and he screamed in agony, toppling onto his back, his clothing and flesh seared away, and his blackened skull stared up toward the stone ceiling.

The woman moved closer to the Esper, the glow growing brighter with each step she took. She lifted one hand, reaching out toward the icy prison, and a spark of electricity jolted between the ice and her fingers. She laid her palm against the ice, and with a crash of thunder that shook the mountain, blinding white light filled the mine.


	2. Chapter 2: The Damsel and the Thief

**Chapter 2: The Damsel and the Thief**

A stabbing pain in her head suddenly woke her. She sat up suddenly, her hand reflexively reaching for something at her side, and found nothing. She wasn't sure what she had sought, but finding nothing within reach somehow felt wrong.

She was in a soft bed, a lamp on the bedside table was the only illumination in the room, and the ticking of a clock hanging on the far wall was all she could hear. The pain lanced through her head again and she hissed against it, raising one hand to her head. Even her vision seemed to give way to the pain, the room blurring in front of her with the agony.

The room itself was sparsely decorated, aside from the lamp and the bedside table, she could make out a dresser on the far wall, and plain white wallpaper. The only door was in the wall to her left.

These thoughts were not what concerned her the most, however, so much as the question of how she had gotten here. She did not remember this room, nor coming here. An icy chill suddenly ran down her spine as she realized she didn't remember anything. Even trying to remember her own name only drew a blank.

She turned, leaping up from the bed, only to tangle her legs in the blankets and land on the floor with a loud thump. As she turned over to untangle herself, she still when she heard scraping wood on the other side of the wall, like a chair sliding on the floor, followed by footsteps, coming toward the door. She quickly pulled herself free of the blankets and climbing to her feet, and once more found her hand reflexively reaching for something that should have been at her waist, but was missing.

The door latch clicked, and the door eased open. On the other side was an older man, maybe in his early sixties, with graying hair, but was clearly in good physical condition, his bare arms revealing finely honed biceps and heavy calluses on his hands. He paused, surprised as he looked into the room.

"Who are you?" the young woman asked, "Where am I?"

He was silent a moment, examining the situation before responding, "You're in my home. Don't worry, you're quite safe here, for now. I didn't expect you to be up for another few hours."

The pain lanced through her head again, causing her to grit her teeth and lift one hand to her head as she sat back on the bed. "My head…" she groaned.

The man struck a match, lighting a lamp on the wall by the door and turning it up to illuminate the room. He then moved to the dresser, opening the top drawer and withdrawing something as he turned back to her. A black circlet was in his hand, which he held up where she could see it. "This is the cause of your headache," he said, "It's called a Slave Crown. Those two men had complete control over you while you were wearing it."

She looked at the crown, then shook her head. "I can't remember it," she said, "or anything else."

"Your memories will return," the man said, turning and tucking it back in the drawer, "In time, that is. The headaches, fortunately, won't last more than a few hours. But your memories may take weeks, or even months to return, I'm afraid."

His words brought her no comfort, but she did try to calm down, taking a deep breath. Her head throbbed, and she couldn't help by try to reach for something… anything that she should know. Like a beacon of light, she managed to find something, surprising herself when it surfaced in her mind.

"My name…" she said, "It's Terra. Terra Branford."

Now it was the man's turn to be surprised, but he smiled as he turned back. "That's very impressive! You wake so quickly, and already your name! I've never heard of anyone recovering this fast!"

It wasn't much, but it felt like the lone foothold in a raging river, and the woman, Terra, breathed a sigh of relief that she had that much. She looked up at the man, and asked, "How did I get here?"

The man moved back across the room, toward the door. "I found you in the mines," he said, "Last night, the town was attacked, you see, and I found you…"

A sharp knocking interrupted him, clear even through the wall separating the bedroom from the front, as someone beat on the front door with vehemence. "Open this door!" came a man's voice shouting from outside, "By order of the mayor, hand over that woman and the Empire's Magitek Armor!"

The man swore, rushing from the bedroom toward the front. Terra stood up, wobbling as her head throbbed again, but steadied herself and followed him. As she entered the front room, the knocking resumed, now sounding like, rather than his fist, the knocker elected to use a hard object, like a rock or the hilt of a weapon. "Open this door!" the man outside screamed again, "We want that woman! She's an officer of the Empire!"

The man swore under his breath, quickly grabbing a heavy fur coat from the rack across the room as Terra entered behind him. "What's Magitek Armor?" she asked as he turned around.

He rushed over to her, pushing the coat and something else into her hands, motioning for her to be quiet. "Listen," he whispered, "I don't have time to explain, but we need to get you out of here. Put these on and follow me."

The coat was wrapped around the other object he had handed her, and as she opened it, found a sword in its sheath, already fitted to a belt. She followed him back toward the back as she put it on, surprising herself with how naturally she did so, and the fact it felt like it belonged at her side. The missing thing her hand had reflexively searched for was back where it belonged.

By the entrance to the bedroom was a bookcase on the back wall. With a shove, the man pushed it to the side, revealing another door hidden behind it. As she pulled the heavy coat on, he motioned for her. "This leads out to an old area of the mines," he said, "Make your way out through there while I keep these brutes occupied! Once you're out, your best chance is to go south, to Figaro. I'll send someone after you as soon as I get rid of the guards, to help you get there."

Feeling overwhelmed by everything, Terra only managed a nod as she opened the door and stepped out. It immediately slammed shut behind her, and she heard the bookcase being slid back into place. Turning back, she realized the outer side of the door looked exactly like the wood paneling on the back of the house.

She was on a narrow walkway about twenty feet high, near the rooftops and she could see a high ledge at the other side, with an opening that undoubtedly led into the mines. Pulling the coat tight around herself, she started toward it.

It was a cloudy sky, though no snow was falling, and the wind had mercifully died away since the previous night, but there was still an icy bite in the air, each breath burning her lungs with the cold. There was also a heavy snow over the rooftops and the walkway, forcing her to move slowly to avoid slipping.

It was the snow that betrayed her. A small amount shifted as she walked, falling to the ground below, causing one man's eyes to turn toward the sound, seeing the indentation in the snow on the street, and look upward toward the source.

"She's up there!" came the shout from below.

Terra looked down, seeing men gathering in the street below her, all dressed in heavy furs against the cold, and all of them armed. One pointed to the north side of town, barking orders at the others, then pointed at the sound and ordered the rest to follow him. The gathering split off in two different directions, moving out of her sight.

Terra knew she didn't have time. She moved as quickly as she dared on the narrow walkway, and finally reached the rock ledge above the town, and broke into a run, into the mine shaft. Her footsteps echoing on the stone floor, she ran through the twisting passage. There seemed to be only one path, and that at least was reassuring. At least until she rounded a corner and nearly crashed into the guards coming from ahead of her.

"No!" she shouted, ducking back, narrowing avoiding the guard's attempt to grab her.

Turning to run back, she stopped short as heavy footsteps were coming up behind her, and more guards came around a twist in the passage. She was surrounded, with no place to go. "You've got nowhere to go, lady," one of them said, "Just give yourself up, nice and easy."

Terra turned again, seeing the guards coming in from ahead of her. Panic seized her. "Get back!" she said, moving to the side of the tunnel, trying to find some way to go. There was none.

Something else was happening. Even in the icy cold, she felt a strange warmth welling up in her chest. Her fingertips began to glow red and grow hot. This only added to her panic, which redoubled when she felt her back hit the rock wall, and the guards kept moving close.

She started to scream, throwing her hands out, and then the floor gave way. She realized she was falling, and a completely new kind of panic seized her as she fell into the darkness, only to stop just as quickly as she started.

She landed on her back, and pain shot through her skull as she cracked it on the stone floor. The ringing in her ears drown out the fragments of rock that had fallen with her hitting the floor. She rolled onto her stomach, groaning as the pain of the impact only added to the pain of her headache.

She struggled, pushing herself up on her hands and knees, but was only able to crawl a few feet before the pain lay her flat again, and she mercifully blacked out.

* * *

><p>She struggled against the bonds holding her wrists. The interrogation room was somewhere she had never wanted to return. Now, chained to the seat in the center of the chamber, she was at her most helpless. Unable to move her hands, she couldn't even use the fire they so badly wanted.<p>

"Always has to be a rebellious streak in the best subjects, I suppose," came the voice from behind her, "Well, if you won't follow orders, there are other means to make you do what I want."

He walked to wear she could see him. The long green coat easily identified him at any distance, but in this tight space, her eyes were drawn directly to his face. Ghastly pale, with clear burn scars across his face, surrounding his eyes and mouth. She remembered when it had happened, when the magical fires had come from within him, searing his flesh as they exited through his face. It was almost like bad, comical makeup, but the man himself was far more terrifying than the painted face of a clown.

He was holding a black circlet in his hands, tapping it with one finger. "See this? It's called a Slave Crown. When I put it on your head, you'll do anything I want, and I mean anything. Fortunately for you, the Emperor won't let us take advantage, but you'll be far more compliant in the real matters."

"You can't…" she said.

"You'll find I very much can," he said with a wicked smile.

He set the black circlet on her head, and the smile turned into a laugh.

Suddenly she found herself in the street. Soldiers in heavy mechs were pouring up the street toward her. She was angry, and moved toward them. Flames danced from her fingers as she lifted her hands. Like her rage pouring forth, the fire streamed from her hands, dancing to her whim. The soldiers were screaming as the fires ignited their clothing, melting the metal of their armor, their flesh melting from the bones before their eyes. Buildings caught fire, collapsing around them as the supports burned through.

She was screaming, her rage pouring forth, a crawling sensation tickling her skin as more and more men burned before her power. And there was the scarred man, watching it all from the side of the street. That sinister laugh over all of it, pausing only to urge her on. "Good!" he shouted, "Burn them all! Show them what you can really do!"

His laugh echoed in her head as she found herself in another place once again. Standing on a high platform, next to a mech, the Magitek armor, and four other people with her. One was the scarred man, a blonde woman in an imperial officer's uniform, and another man in an officer's uniform. The last person was an older man, dressed in much more regal clothes, gold stitching and jewelry adorning him to the point the gleamed. Below the platform, rows upon rows of soldiers, hundreds of them, waiting as the older man addressed them from above.

"We stand on the brink of a major breakthrough!" he shouted to them, "Thanks to Professor Cid's ingenious creations, we will witness a total revival of magic. The day fast approaches when each and every one of you valiant soldiers will be able destroy our enemies with the forces of destructive magics. Any who dare oppose us will be utterly destroyed!"

The other three moved up behind him as the crowd began to cheer. Raisin his voice over the cheering, the man concluded, "With our newfound power, nothing can stand in our way!"

"Hurrah!" came the cry from the audience, "Long live Emperor Gestahl!"

The platform faded from view as Terra slowly regained consciousness, trying to push herself up from the stone floor, only for the pain to shoot through her head again, and once more consciousness faded.

* * *

><p>An hour had passed. Arvis paced across his dining room. He'd tried to slow the guards down, feigning ignorance and letting them search his house, though what little time he'd bought. The guards had departed, promising to be back, when someone had spotted Terra on the walkway. He'd sent word as quickly as he could after than, only to jump in surprise himself when the sound of the bookcase in the back of the house finally came.<p>

A young man entered the room, shaking snow from his jacket and stomping his feet in an attempt to warm them back up.

"Took you long enough!" Arvis said as he entered, "How goes the robbing and plundering trade?"

The young man feigned offence. "I prefer the term 'treasure hunting!'" he said.

Arvis brushed it off. "Semantic nonsense, Locke, and you know it!" he said.

"There's a huge difference!" the young man, Locke said, then sighed as if in exasperation before changing the subject, "Anyway, I got your message. What was so important it couldn't wait?"

"We were attacked by imperial soldiers last night," Arvis said, "They were after the frozen Esper that was dug up in the mine. Of the three, two of them were found dead in the mine, in the room with the Esper. Their skin was burned off."

"Gruesome," Locke said, "What about the third?"

"That's why I called you here," Arvis said.

"Wait just a second," Locke said, "This better not have anything to do with that imperial witch I've been hearing about!"

Arvis tossed something to him. Locke snatched it from the air. It seemed to be just a simple black circlet. "Is this what I think it is?" he asked.

Arvis nodded. "That girl was being used against her will. I'm afraid that for her own safety, I had to send her off much faster than I would have liked. As far as I know, she is still in the old mines. The guards haven't turned up with her yet, nor have they come back to harass me for helping her.

"The point is, if that girl has the abilities that we've been hearing rumors about, she could be a valuable asset if she would join us. She survived an encounter with that Esper that killed the other two with her, so that is evidence in that direction, at least to me."

"Okay, I get it," Locke said, turning for the back door, "I'll go find her. You're going to be left holding the bag, though."

"Don't worry about me," Arvis said, "The mayor will come around before too much longer. I think imperial troops storming down Main Street may finally be enough to convince him that for Narshe's independence to stand, we need allies like the Returners. You just get that girl and take her south. She should be safe in Figaro for the time being."

* * *

><p>It was mere minutes before Locke discovered the collapsed floor in the mine passage, and holding his torch in the hole, spotted something lying on the floor below. He nearly skipped over the side of the hole, dropping down to a trained landing, minimizing the impact by falling into a crouch, and the light of his torch revealed the green-haired young woman he was searching for.<p>

"Took a nasty spill, I see," he said, brushing aside her hair to find the drying blood on the back of her head, and reached to her neck to search for a pulse. She was still alive.

He was pondering how he was going to get back up with her when heavy footsteps in the distance caused him to lift his torch higher. A lantern came into view from around a dark corner, illuminating the face and clothing of the Narshe guards. At least ten entered the tunnel, and the one holding the lantern smiled when he saw Locke and the woman. "Nowhere to run now!" the guard said.

"Wonderful," Locke muttered, "There's a whole bunch of them."

But it did confirm there was a way back up that didn't involve rope and hoisting an unconscious woman through the air. Locke tossed his torch onto the floor, drawing his knife from his belt, and wondered how in the hell he was going to do this as the guards drew the hand axes and spread out, filling the tunnel with four standing shoulder to shoulder and more behind them.

The sound of soft padded feet behind him caused him to turn, expecting an ambush, only to stare in disbelief. The strange white creatures were pouring out of a small passage behind him, filling the tunnel with their numbers, and two of them moved to where the woman lay, one reaching down with a small hand to turn her head and seemed to check her breathing.

"Moogles," Locke said in disbelief, "They're not just a story…"

The one that had stopped by the woman looked up at him, and pointed back the way they had come from, and made a strange sound. Locke glanced over his shoulder at the guards. They had stopped, probably in just as much disbelief as him, but were now starting to advance again. Locke scooped up his torch, holding it high, and could see the passage from which the moogles had emerged, smaller than the rest of the mine, but certainly large enough for a man to pass.

"I get it," Locke said, and turned to throw his torch at the guards, the flames causing them to back off a bit, and Locke quickly sheathed his knife, moved to the unconscious woman and scooped her up in his arms.

The moogles parted as he moved through them, carrying her toward the passage. The guards' footsteps increased in pace, not wanting him to escape, but the moogles came back together and Locke glanced back long enough to see them producing weapons of varying sizes, from knives and swords to flails and even a pole arm.

"Thanks, guys," he said, turning back to the tunnel, "I won't forget this!"

Locke ducked into the dark tunnel, moving as quickly as he dared in the dark as the sound of fighting echoed down the tunnel behind him. Saved by creatures from children's fairy tales. Best keep that one to himself, or he'd never live it down.

Bumping into walls in the dark, he made his way, the fighting growing more distant, until finally he turned a corner and was able to see light in the distance. He moved toward the mine entrance more slowly, listening for guards and a possible ambush. As he stepped into the sunlight, he paused at the entrance, glancing both directions from the mouth. He could see the valley floor south of the town from here, and knew he had emerged some distance west of the town itself. All the better, if he could slip away without drawing attention.

The snow crunched under his feet as he stepped from the mine entrance, finding himself on a ledge about twenty feet up from the valley floor. It was not a sheer drop, but the rocky terrain gave him pause, wondering how he could descend it. The woman wasn't heavy, but it was steep enough he'd need his hands to keep from slipping. As he was pondering a way to tie her onto his back, she stirred.

He looked down as her eyes fluttered open. He gave her a smile, but she reacted suddenly, one hand grabbing his lapel, the other going for the short sword on her belt. "Whoa, take it easy!" he said, nearly losing his balance from the sudden movement, "You're safe! I'm one of the good guys!"

She did not release her grip, but did look around, and realized they were outside the mine. "You're the one the old man said he would send?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's me," Locke said, "I found you in the mines, and got you out here. How are you feeling?"

She relaxed, releasing her grip on his jacket and breathing a sigh of relief, then immediately ground her teeth, reached around the back of her head, feeling the painful spot where she had hit her head. The first headache seemed to be gone, at least.

"Can you stand?" Locke asked.

"I think so," she said, and he set her down on her feet, where she wobbled a bit, but then steadied herself. Her head throbbed, but it was the lump on the back of her skull that hurt, not the lancing pain from before.

"Take your time," Locke said, "As soon as you think you're ready, we can get going. Figaro is about an eight hour walk from here, and we'll be safe there."

She was able to get a good look at him for the first time, a young man, maybe in his early or mid twenties, he wasn't dressed in the furs like the guards had been, instead wearing mainly dark leather, his pants and jacket both, with the top button of the jacket undone, revealing both the wool lining inside the jacket and the white cotton shirt underneath. He was clean-shaven, with a friendly smile, and his hair was hidden beneath the blue bandana that covered his head.

She felt she should tell him about her memory, thinking it may cause problems later. "Listen, there's something you should know," she said, "My memory…"

"You have amnesia," Locke said gently, "I know. I saw the Slave Crown. Nasty devices, those things. And think about what that says about the people who made them."

"You know," she said, looking away from him, suddenly feeling incredibly awkward, "I see."

"Hey," Locke took her by the shoulder with one hand, giving a gentle squeeze, and with his other hand, turned her head back toward him and said softly, "It's going to be okay. I promise. You're feeling very alone right now, aren't you? Well, I won't leave you until your memory returns. You will not be left alone again. Okay?"

Terra felt herself smile, without really intending to. "Thank you," she said, realizing his words did make her feel a small bit better.

Locke grinned. "If your feeling lost, might as well have some company," he said, "Then we can be lost together."

Terra pulled her jacket tighter around herself as Locke stepped past her toward the ledge. "Okay, we go down here, then it's almost a straight shot to Figaro," he said, "You ready?"

She nodded, moving after him as he turned around and started down the rocky ledge. She waited for him to get a few feet down before climbing down behind him.

She couldn't remember anything beyond her own name, and felt as though she was being dragged along in a storm, completely oblivious to what her future held, and it was terrifying to think about. It was reassuring, however, that at least one person was going to be with her through it, though.


End file.
